Standing Strong Chapter One
by Bronwyn Evans
Summary: Eragon FanFiction. Action/Romance. Romance will happen a lot later into the plot, though.
1. Chapter 1

Miantha looked up at the clear blue sky, clearing her mind of all distractions as she practiced her careful breathing.

In-2-3-4

Out-2-3-4

In-2-3-4

Out-2-3-4

Slowly, her eyes drifted closed and her mind emptied of all thoughts. Her mind lifted into a clear place full of light. It was white and clean, reflecting her inner calm at the moment. Breathing...Breathing...

Suddenly, her meditation was disrupted by a loud noise a ways off. Her hearing was always enhanced whenever she went into the Trance.

"Hello?" She called. "Who's there? Answer me!" She demanded, then stomped off towards where the sound had come from. There was a large crater taking up several square yards. The edges of the basin were smoking, and everything was charred and black. "What the..." She whispered, going up the edge of the crater and touching her fingers to a small tree there, which instantly crumbled into ash at the contact. Miantha gasped.

"What is this?" She asked herself quietly, walking tentatively into the circle, glancing around her constantly, looking for danger. Miantha walked tentatively through the smoky wreckage. She had grabbed her dagger on the way out of the meadow, and she drew it now, holding it before her the way she had been taught. Fist in front of heart. Though Miantha had never enjoyed fighting or violence of any kind, it was necessary to learn these skills when you lived in the Spine. It could be dangerous to those that didn't know the ways of the mysteries lurking under those treacherous trees.

Miantha crept up to the object in the exact centre of the circle. It appeared to be some sort of...green stone, at first glance. As she slowly advanced, she realized what it really was.

"A dragon egg," she said in awe. "That...that's not possible..." She reached forward to stroke it. A dragon egg would be of great benefit to her village. If it hatched for one of the elders, then they would have a Rider, just like in the tales. As her fingers brushed the smooth, dark green egg, she heard a cracking sound. She spun around.

Nothing was there. In fact - it seemed the cracking sound had come from the egg. She watched in mixed admiration and terror as a claw emerged, then a foot, and finally the hatchling spilled out of the shell. It croaked at her. She backed away slowly, holding her hands out in front of her as in surrender.

The hatchling mewled at her, like it thought it was a cat or something, and pitched forward awkwardly on its spindly new legs. It reached its head up piteously as though it wished to be petted.

Its head had a ridge that reached from the tip of its nose to the small of its neck, where it morphed into small spikes running down the dragon's back, not yet lethal but promising of the great and terrible things to come. The eyes were ringed by a darker color, making it look as though the dragon were staring intensely at everything it saw. It looked extremely intelligent and wise, although only yet an infant.

Miantha ran through her head everything she knew about dragons. It came to the grand sum of - nothing. She decided that there could be no harm in simply touching the hatchling - after all, she would eventually have to give it back to whence it came, to where it belonged.

Slowly, she reached out. The moment she felt the hatchling, she cried out and grabbed her hand back. It had burned suddenly. She examined it for injury, but found only a silver mark upon her hand. A few words found their way into her head, like smoke, twisting until she recognized their form. "Gedwey Ignasia?" She queried aloud. Of course, she didn't really expect a reply.

But she got one anyway.

_That is correct._


	2. Chapter 2

Miantha carefully looked around her before finally realizing that the voice was coming from no physical source. She sensed that the only way to communicate with this voice would be to think out loud, in a manner of speaking. 

_Hello?_ She greeted tentatively. _Is...Anybody there?_ She hoped against all hope that she wasn't going crazy. Maybe...the dragon was somehow the cause of this? _Yes. I am here._ At the same time, the little green dragon squeaked, pushing its head underneath her hand once again, like a cat. She instinctively shied away, but this time the contact didn't hurt.

Carefully, she reached out her mind once more. _Are you...the dragon?_

It seemed to thrum underneath her hand. _Yes,_ It replied. _I am Balefire. And you are?_ It was quite courteous, to her surprise.

_I...am Miantha._

_It is nice to meet the acquaintance of the one for whom I have waited so long_, The dragon, apparently named Balefire, replied.

_What do you mean?_ Miantha was bewildered. What were the meanings of his words? Surely she wasn't important. Perhaps he meant...yes, that must be it. _You are confused,_ She told him gently. _You are waiting for Jugend or maybe Ianthu perhaps..._

He interrupted her thought midstream. _No, I have waited for you for a very long time. I did not keep myself within that shell for 200 years for those insignificant ones that you name._ He seemed to sniff indignantly. _They are unimportant._

"But that..." Started Miantha. Then she realized that, in her shock, she had spoken aloud. _But that is blasphemous,_ She thought viciously. _Don't even think that!_

For to merely think against the men who led her village, the village of Flame, was the highest treason. The power of their small community lay only in the power put in the headship.

_Hm._ Balefire dropped the subject and began lifting his heavy head high to look around at his surroundings. Miantha couldn't help it; he was so cute. She picked him up and hugged him. _It really is too bad that I can't spend more time with you. _She sighed regretfully.

_What are you talking about?_ He asked. _We are bonded for eternity and beyond. We have all of the time in the world to spend together._ He nuzzled into her arms, but she dropped him abruptly.

_NO!_ was her mental cry. _They'll kill me!_ And with that she fled.


	3. Chapter 3

Miantha ran as fast as her legs would allow, her breath burning in her lungs as she raced for the village. Finally, after a few minutes of this torture, the clearing where her village lay came into view.

She lived in the Village of Flam, a small, almost nonexistent town right next to Flam Lake, the source of water for the people. It was on the East Side of the Spine, but the West side of Alagaesia. Carvahall was the nearest community, but it was so far away that they were largely separated from the rest of Alagaesia.

"Jugend! Ianthu! Perelii!" She cried out the names of the three elders. Quickly, they came out of the small hut where they resided, and came over to her.

Despite being called elders, some were quite young. Perelii had only seen 30 winters, and Ianthu 34. Jugend, however, lived up to his name with his 79 winters. People were beginning to suspect that he was half-elf, but of course that was ridiculous. An elder must be a full human, and besides, what elf would have relations with a human?

"What is the matter?" Asked Jugend calmly. Jugend was always calm. It was almost eerie. She noticed as he inventoried her breathlessness and flushed cheeks. "Where have you run from?"

"Well...see..." She began breathlessly, then straightened up and forced herself to speak normally. "I was walking through the Spine, and then I - "

"The SPINE!" Exploded Ianthu. "What were you doing in the Spine, you half-wit!" Jugend laid a hand on his arm to calm him, though it didn't appear to have much effect. Ianthu was a hothead. She had always wondered why he had even gotten onto the Council of Elders.

"Let the girl speak." Jugend's voice was quiet. "I have a feeling that she has quite a story."

"As I said, I was walking in the Spine," She began again. No one but her and her mother knew about the Trance - she had sworn never to tell anyone. "Then I heard a loud cracking sound and I hurried over and found a green dragon egg." She paused for a moment. Should she tell them that it had hatched? She decided not to. "Then I ran back here."

If the elders suspected that she was keeping something back, their faces did not show it. Jugend merely asked her to lead the way to the egg. Carefully, she retraced her steps, finding broken twigs where she had run before. They found their way to the clearing quickly, and from there it was only a short distance to the burnt circle.

Tentatively, she eased into the circle, praying that Balefire had stayed. _Balefire?_ She probed with her mind. She heard a squeaking sound, and triumphantly pointed at him. "There he is," She said aloud. The elders just stared for a second at the ungainly creature. The Ianthu turned to her, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He slapped her across the face. "YOU FOOL GIRL!" He screamed. "YOU TOUCHED THE EGG! IT BONDED WITH YOU!" Jugend restrained Ianthu from actually striking her, but even he looked close to loosing his cool.

"You realize," Pelerii spoke for the first time. "That you have just stolen what is rightfully the elders." His voice was grim. Ianthu's, on the other hand, was gleeful as he stated, "That is treason."

Jugend looked at her stonily for a second, then announced. "The penalty for treason is death."


	4. Chapter 4

Miantha felt her legs go weak. "Wha..what?" How could this be? Ianthu had said that she had bonded with the dragon, and Balefire, the actual dragon, had said the same thing. Why her? Why?

Perelii's face hardened. "You see, when you touched the dragon egg, it could see who you were," He explained in his tutoring voice. He often taught the children their letters in the village - to him, this was likely just another lesson. "It sensed that you were the one who it was meant for. If you die, the connection will be broken, leaving it free to bond with one...more worthy."

Was this true? The elders, were, of course, much more worthy of the dragon than she was, a girl with no father and no heritage. Perhaps...perhaps it would be better for all involved for her to end her bond with the dragon. She forced herself not to think of his name. It must be a strictly impersonal relationship now. [As you are, so am I spoke Balefire in her mind.

_What does that mean?_ She asked him.

_What it means is that if you die, I also will perish._ He explained. _The elders will not gain me in any case._

Her death would not bring peace, then. It would only bring more discord. The elders would likely dishonor her body. Nothing was worth that, she decided suddenly, straightening up her shoulders. A plan came to her mind.

She bowed to the elders. "As you wish, let it be done," She said humbly. "As long as it benefits the village, I am willing to sacrifice my life." By the look on their stunned faces, they had not been expecting this sudden turnaround. "Very well," Spoke Ianthu gruffly. "At daybreak, you will meet us near the Gallows, and we will show all what it means to commit treason." She simply bowed my head, though underneath she was trembling with anger. So they thought she was going to give up that easily, did they?

Well, they were wrong. She would fight them with every fiber of her being. "Yes, sirs." She murmured, keeping her face down as she led the way back down the hill, keeping Balefire safe in her arms. He hadn't let any of the elders even go near him. _That is a good idea, _He appraised. She started. _Oh...I didn't know that you could...well..._ She began. _Yes, I can see your mind. How else would we be talking like this?_ This whole Dragon Rider thing was going to be more complex than she had originally figured.

They soon came to the village, where they were greeted by a mob of people. Jugend raised his hand to quiet them.

"Dear People," He said. "We have found a dragon in the Spine." There was a collective gasp. "Unfortunately, it has bonded with one unsuitable for these purposes. Tomorrow we will break the bond connecting these two," He gestured at Balefire and Miantha. "And you will have a Dragon Rider amongst you once more!" There was a slight murmur at the sound of breaking the connection, but they had no idea that the only way to break it was through death. Jugend had chosen his words carefully.

When the crowd finally dispersed, Miantha made her way to her dwelling, to tell her mother goodbye. She walked through the doorway and found her mother standing, hands on hips, glaring at her. "You irresponsible girl! A dragon! What next...Now I suppose..." She began to mutter. Miantha was alarmed. Her straightforward mother never acted like this. What was wrong with her? She was rustling through the papers behind the bed. Finally she pulled one forth, and pursed her lips. "This will do," She allowed. Sighing, she brought the crinkled parchment to the table. "Mother?" Miantha questioned. "What is this about?"

Her mother's brown hair, now flecked with gray, poked out of her once tidy bun. "This is a map of Alagaesia. Now, we live on the beachside of the Flam Lake, and you need to go around the outside of Alagaesia in order to escape."

Miantha interrupted. "How do you know this?" Her mother's eyes flickered up to hers. "I was once part of the resistance. This is the only way for you to escape the elders who plan to kill you." "The resistance? What do you..."

She interrupted yet again. "Your father told me this would happen someday. He was half elf - he knew things like this. He was...gifted." Miantha's eyes widened - Her father, half elf? Her mother, a rebel?

Her mother pulled out one more paper from behind the bed. "Here is the prophecy." Miantha felt overwhelmed. All of this was happening much too quick. But she unfurled the prophecy to read its words. Life as she knew it ended.


	5. Chapter 5

Miantha looked at the prophecy.

-One will come among us...- It read. -Different from the ones before-

That was all she got before she realized that she was making a mistake. Quickly, Miantha furled the paper up again, so that she wouldn't be tempted to read further. Knowing her future was too much responsibility. If translated incorrectly, it could be disastrous. She did not want that particular duty - it was too much, too fast.

Her mother looked at her strangely. "I would rather not know," Miantha explained. Her mother nodded once, and spread the map over the table. "Now," she said. "You need to go south, and then east to get to the Varden."

"Mother? Who are the Varden?" She asked. "Not so loud!" Her mother whispered violently. "It's rather a long story. Like I said earlier, I was once part of the resistance. The name of the resistance is..." She looked around, then whispered, "The Varden. I used to live there. But when I met your father..." She shrugged. "We thought it was better to raise our children outside of the constant war and struggle that surrounds it." Her mother was silent for a while.

Miantha understood, though. Ever since her father had died, when Miantha herself was only three, Pandora had been heartbroken. She had never fully gotten over the loss of her love.

But Pandora looked up again, her eyes suspiciously bright but otherwise nothing was amiss. "The Varden will shelter you, as long as you tell them your father's name." Miantha gasped. Her mother had never disclosed her father's name! It had always been a secret, like the life that Pandora had led before coming to the Flam Lake Village.

"Your fathers name is Yre. It is an elven name, which is why I have never told you. If it had been known that you and he were part elven, we would have been driven from the village."

Miantha shuddered. She had witnessed the villagers' absurd prejudices for herself - she was often taunted by her lack of a respectable father and hence she spent most of her time alone, where she had discovered her meager magical gift. She had known instinctively not to tell anyone of this, but she could sense the life force of the souls around her. That was what the Trance was all about - sensing the bright glow of life all around her. Even her mother didn't know that part of the story.

Pandora went on, and Miantha hurried her attention back to her. "Speak your fathers name to the gates, and you will be admitted." Deftly, she pulled another scroll out, this one a more detailed sketch of the Boer Mountains, showing the Varden as well as the dwarves. Miantha ran her fingers over the crinkled parchment. This...this was her destiny.


	6. Chapter 6

Pandora left Miantha to look at the map and started rummaging around in the cupboards, muttering to herself. "Curse the elders, they know we don't have a lot of food right now, how on earth am I supposed to give her a bundle of food if that means I'll starve..." Miantha didn't notice. She was drawn in by the map, the promise of the unknown. She traced her fingers down the path she would take; first, down the length of the Spine and around the Leona Lake, stopping by Dras Leona, then Melian, Cithri, and Lithgow before entering the Beor Mountains...it was a good thing that she knew how to hunt, for it would be hard going between cities.

Finally, Pandora finished with the last of the preparations, handing Miantha a large knap-sack full of all the food she could spare. It couldn't be too heavy; otherwise Miantha would be fatigued to easily. And as she had to carry a forbidden dragon as well, this could happen fairly easily.

Balefire had remained quiet while Miantha and her mother talked, but know he spoke. _I will be a burden, won't I? _The tenor of his thoughts sounded slow, and sad. _Oh, Balefire... _Thought Miantha. _Don't worry about it, we'll manage!_ She smiled, though with rather less caliber than normal. Balefire just snorted smoke and settled down on the table to look at her as she prepared her weapons - she would take her father's daggers and her long bow as well as a quiver of arrows.

She examined the weapons for damage, but there was none. The daggers gleamed in the dying light, the last dregs of the sun reflecting off of the polished silver handles with the runes inlaid at the hilt. As always, Miantha was captivated by these runes, which she now suspected to be elven. The long bow, in comparison, was very plain, simply a carved piece of wood with no decorations to speak of, but it was serviceable.

She slung the pack and the quiver over her shoulders, and put the daggers in their rightful cases, which were hung around her waist. She tried several different ways to carry the bow without the use of her hands, but it was futile. Finally, she gave up, and awkwardly looked over at her mother, who was looking at her appraisingly.

"Well, you'll need a horse." She said bluntly. "But, mother," Miantha protested, "We don't HAVE a horse!"

Pandora glared at her. "Did I say that it had to be OUR horse? As long as the elders are the ones forcing us out, we can take what we want from them!" She said fiercely. Miantha was rather frightened by this new model of her mother - normally, Pandora was quiet and unassuming, simply going about her duties quietly, sometimes humming a song under her breath. This new fiery mother was quite different - she opposed the elders, stole from them, and talked of blasphemy against King Galbatorix!

The sun finally sunk below the mountains, submerging the land in darkness. Pandora glanced around. "As soon as I grab the horse," She said, "You will have to make a run for it. I will try and convince them that you would go north, to Daret, but I don't know how much my word is worth." She sighed, and was suddenly no more than a worried, middle-aged woman with graying hair. Miantha felt a sudden pang. Was this the last time she would ever see her mother? She ran over to Pandora and threw her arms around her, then released her, saying, "Mother, good luck." Pandora smiled slightly and took off into the darkness.

A few moments later, she came racing into the dwelling. "GO!" She yelled. Miantha could hear the voices and footsteps behind their cottage - quickly, she ran out, grabbed Balefire, and hopped up on the horse. Fortunately, she had practiced her horse riding skills when she was little, and though she was rusty now she knew enough to keep herself on as the horse galloped off into the moonlight.


	7. Chapter 7

Miantha kept to the main road, as going off into the wilderness would only slow her down enough to get caught. She heard the voices yelling behind her, saying words like "Traitor" "Betrayal" "Rebel" and "Blasphemer". She recognized one of the voices as her only childhood friend, Tzika. She impatiently wiped away the tears that came unbidden to her eyes. Stupid Tzika. But she would have time for tears later. At the fork in the road, she went right, to the Spine, where few would dare trespass, and those that did surely didn't know it as well as she did - the other villagers believed it cursed.

Miantha decided that the best way to keep them off her back would be to get far enough ahead and then veer off the trail, where they wouldn't dare go even if they did suspect that she had gone off of the trail. She urged the horse onward, with small pushes of her mind. _Go,_ She thought. _Go_. She could feel Balefire helping her. _Thank you,_ she said. She had been taught to be polite: no need to disregard that now. She thought that she was far enough ahead that she could risk her maneuver - so she swerved off to the side, praying that they wouldn't suspect it.

As soon as she couldn't hear the yells anymore, only a small whispering that could have been mistaken for the wind on an ordinary night. Miantha slowed her horse, and took a deep breath, calming her racing heart.

What to do now? A bit of panic set in, spreading throughout her. She was all alone, in the Spine, in the dark. She had never been in the Spine past sunset, and the smallest of noises were amplified by pressing silence. She could hear a bird call, and a snapping branch set her heart racing again as she looked around, trying to see what it could be.

Then she heard Balefire in her mind, _Calm yourself. It is simply a small rabbit. No need to worry. _Miantha looked down at the small dragon harbored in the crook of her arm. He was one to talk, she thought in annoyance.  
_Hey!_ He thought, a small burst of smoke coming from his nose.  
_Oh, I'm sorry! This no-privacy thing is going to take some getting used to._  
He snorted and looked away pointedly.  
_I said I was sorry!_ He sniffed, hurt, but looked back at her.  
_I accept your apology,_ He said stiffly.  
_Good!_ Miantha glowed with satisfaction. His distraction had been just what she needed - her mind was clear, and she knew just what to do to make her camp.

First came the fire. She let Balefire off first, then tied the horse to a tree, writing down a mental note to name the horse sometime soon. Miantha gathered some tinder and firewood for when the fire got going, and made sure to snatch a handful of pine needles to start the fire with. She made her way back to the clearing, thinking over the strangeness of the last day. So much had happened, and so little made sense...

She arrived at the clearing and arranged the fire as she had been taught, in a star pattern, making sure that the thickest concentration of needles was in the center before retrieving her flint and stone. Then she had an idea..._Balefire?_

_Yes, Miantha?_  
_Do you think you can...um...you know..._  
_No, I don't._  
_Can you start the fire?_  
Balefire made an odd sound - after a moment, Miantha realized that this was probably the dragon equivalent of laughter, and she laughed too. _What's so funny_?

_Well, it's not that funny, I suppose, but I won't be able to breathe fire for quite a while._  
_Oh._ So that option was out. She drew out her stone and flint again, striking one against the other to form a spark. After three tries, the stack of needles caught and Miantha was unable to keep the smile of achievement off her face. She fostered the little flame until it was going well enough to last for a while without maintenance.

She set up her blanket, and rechecked the knot tying the horse to the tree. _Balefire?_ She asked tentatively.  
_What is it?_ He asked back, his voice foggy with sleep.  
_Oh, sorry to wake you up, it's just...what should we name the horse?_  
Balefire flicked one eye open, towards the horse. _How about Silver?_  
_Never mind_. Apparently, Balefire wasn't the most original dragon that had ever walked, or rather flew, the earth. Miantha decided that she would name the horse Sarama. Sarama meant 'bravery' in the tongues of her mother's mothers.

Pandora had often spoke of her ancestry. Every night, before the fire, she would tell stories of ancient warriors and battles, of love and conquest. Miantha sighed and settled into her blankets, Balefire snuggling closer to her and Sarama neighing quietly. The stars twinkled upon her as she slept, dreaming of her future.


	8. Chapter 8

Miantha was walking through a wood in her dream. It was obviously an enchanted forest - it was cheery and warm, the sun peeking through the white fluffy clouds, the birds singing her favorite song from the old stories. She could taste the sweetness in the air, and suddenly the desire to dance came over her. She gave herself to the impulse, twirling faster and faster, laughing, until she fell and landed on a soft patch of grass, breathing fast and giggling. Then she heard some footsteps behind her.

A boy - or rather, a man - came up to her. But she was not afraid as she would have been in real life. It was a dream - she knew with a certainty that he would help her, though with what she did not know. She jumped up gracefully from her seat on the moss.

"Greetings." He said, bowing slightly to her. She returned an impish grin and a small curtsy. "Welcome to you as well." She just couldn't keep the beaming smile off her face. Somehow...this was making her the happiest she had ever been. His hair was brown, as were his eyes.

In fact - he was downright handsome, Miantha noticed rather dazedly. It was getting hard to focus...everything was turning fuzzy, including the man. He was trying to tell her something..."Dras Leona," He mouthed. "Dras Leona."

"Wait," She said, but her voice came out like she had said it through a cloth. Gradually, the clear air turned to foul black and the general aura around her surroundings was dark and brooding. Panic began to creep into her, and was intensified by the presence of yet another man, this one inspiring fear rather than joy. She looked all around her for an escape, but only saw the odd black smog.

"My little Rider," Said the man caressingly, in a voice that sounded like cold steel. Miantha shied away from the hand he extended and he slapped her. "You must obey my call!" She put her hands over her ears and crouched down as he towered over her. "You will answer to your King!" He thundered. Galbatorix!

Just like that, she was awake, Balefire prodding her head. _I'm hungry,_ He said. She nodded groggily, trying to hold on to the last dregs of her dreams, but she remembered none of them. Shaking herself, she dispelled the last of the residue of fear and sat up.

Miantha grabbed out her saddle pack, determined to eat a quick breakfast and get on the road before anyone could find her here.

Three Weeks Later

Miantha had just arrived at the largest city she had entered so far - Dras Leona. The city from her dreams...


	9. Chapter 9

Miantha had traveled for three weeks, pushing Sarama to her limits. Ever since her dream, she had felt it was very important to go to Dras Leona, and Balefire had agreed.

_Sometimes,_ He had said, _Dreams are powerful foretellers. Magical beings can see things in their dreams, occasionally. I do not doubt that the man you saw in your dream was real, as was Galbatorix._ Miantha had been very grateful for his support. She had discovered that the link between them was strengthening - they could 'speak' over longer and longer distances, and even began to feel each others feelings. Balefire had sprained his wing while trying to fly one night, and Miantha had felt her own shoulder twinge.

She sighed. The road to Dras Leona was clogged with travelers, merchants, and farmers coming to sell their produce. Miantha was forced to slow Sarama to make way for carts.

Although she saw smoke in the distance before noon, it was another league before the city was clearly visible. Unlike her village, which had been neat and well planned, Dras Leona was a tangled mess that sprawled next to Leona Lake. Ramshackle buildings sat on crooked streets, and the heart of the city was surrounded by a dirty, pale yellow wall of daubed mud. Lovely.

Several miles away, a mountain of bare rock reached for the sky with intricate spires and columns. Nearly vertical sides rose out of the ground like a jagged piece of the earth's bone. Miantha noticed that people inclined their heads in that direction as they passed, and she examined it with more interest.

Was this what the map had labeled as "Helgrind"? Her mother had told her stories about the large rock near Dras Leona that was worshipped like it was a divine being. She didn't know the details, and it had never made sense to her before, but now, beholding this behemoth, she realized why people would worship such a thing. It was truly an awe inspiring thing, though intimidating.

As Miantha and Sarama wound slowly down the road to Dras Leona, she noticed what looked like a smaller version of Helgrind. At once, she wished that Balefire, with his sharp eyes, was here, but they had mutually decided that it would be very unwise to keep a dragon this near to where it was rumored that Ra'zac stayed. The Ra'zac were another element of her mothers horrific stories that Miantha was beginning to suspect might all be true. Of course, if the horrible things were true, so might be the wondrous ones about elven cities and great warriors...

She shook off these frivolous thoughts, and focused on the smaller Helgrind, which was mow coming into focus. When she could finally see it clearly, she realized that it was no Helgrind - it was a temple made in its likeness. Miantha shuddered. Something about this city felt...wrong. Like it was evil. But cities can't be evil, she reminded herself. All the same, she tensed as she reached the enormous gates.

A few soldiers were stationed at the gates, casually surveying the crowds, and Miantha and her horse passed without incident, as she had covered her waist-length blonde hair in order to pass as a man - it was unwise for a woman to travel alone without protection.

The houses inside the city wall were tall and thin to compensate for the lack of space. Those next to the wall were braced against it. Most of the houses hung over the narrow, winding streets, covering the sky so that it was hard to tell if it was night or day. Nearly all of the buildings were constructed of the same rough brown wok, which darkened the city even more. The air reeked like a sewer; the streets were filthy.

Miantha shuddered with pity as she saw a group of ragged children running between the houses, fighting over scraps of bread. Their cries for help were like a chorus of the condemned. Miantha gasped, and sped off as one of those little boys tried to cut her purse. As she entered the wealthier part of the city, she noticed how nice it was.

How do these people live with themselves, she wondered, as she saw the splendor that they lived in, compared to the outer reaches of the city. In front of her was a richly dressed and boisterous crowd.

The auctioneer on the platform finished his list and motioned for a young man behind the platform to join him. The man awkwardly climbed up, chains dragging at his hands and feet. "And here we have out first item," proclaimed the auctioneer. "A healthy male from the Hadarac Desert, captured just last month, and in excellent condition. Look at those arms and legs; he's strong as a bull! He'd be perfect for..."

The rest of the auctioneers spiel was drowned out by the sound of her heart pounding her ears, and the sight of the man was obscured by her tears. Was this what the world had sunk to? Miantha wondered. As she wiped away her tears, she saw the next slave, a small girl, and she turned away, not wanting to watch. As Miantha did so, she noticed someone, a man, walking stiffly away from the crowd. Something about him rang with familiarity, and she decided on a whim to follow him, no Balefire there to dissuade her.


	10. Chapter 10

Miantha followed the man down winding streets, keeping Sarama trotting to keep up with his tense, quick pace. Suddenly he whirled around, and she cringed, wondering what she could say to make him understand. He would think she was crazy if she told him that she had seen him in a dream and so followed him. But all he did was punch the wall. That was close, Miantha thought, as he started his fast walk again, clenching his fists.

I bet that hurt, she observed, after all, his knuckles are all scraped up. He was as angry as I was about the treatment of those people, Miantha surmised. That's a good sign. She followed him until, finally, he slowed. They had arrived at the large cathedral that she had seen earlier. Its twisted spires were covered with statues and scrollwork. Snarling gargoyles crouched among the eaves. Fantastic beasts writhed on the walls, and heroes and kings marched along their bottom edges, frozen in cold marble. Ribbed arches and tall stained-glass windows lined the cathedral's sides, along with columns of differing sizes. A lonely turret helmed the building like a mast.

Miantha watched as he walked forward, to the iron bound door, and he paused at the silver script that she couldn't make out from there. After he had entered, she followed tentatively, first tying Sarama to the gates, praying that no one would take offence. She slowly walked to the entrance. She saw the script, but it was in a language she did not recognize. The language was soft and flowing, however, and as she sounded out the foreign words, the meanings came to her mind: May thee who enter here understand thine impermanence and forget thine attachments to that which is beloved. How depressing, she thought. She quickly followed the man into the cathedral, where he had sunk onto his knees and was speaking words in a language she did not know. She quickly went up to him, determined to confront him before she lost her nerve.

Before she could, he spun around for the second time, this time roaring and drawing his bow. Miantha looked at him, mouth open. What had she done to deserve this? His arrows went right past her, however, and hit something behind her that let out a horrid screech. Miantha turned - and saw what must have been the Ra'zac that her mother had talked about. The hooded black cloaks, the beaked mouths...She let out a whimper of terror and then steeled herself as the soldiers came through the doors as well. This was not the time to be weak. She drew out her own short bow, grabbing an arrow and nocking it.

Her first arrow hit right on target - the Ra'zac that was about to attack the man that she now recognized from her dream. The dream had come quickly to her memory once she had seen his face - it lit up the corners of her mind and she knew. Together, Miantha and the man from her dreams managed to kill more than half, but the Ra'zac and the soldiers just kept on coming, and eventually she was overtaken, and she knew no more.

A dull throbbing woke Miantha. Every time blood pulsed through her left arm, it ached. Instinctively, she stayed on the ground with her eyes closed, and tried to go into the Trance, sensing that this was what needed to happen. At first, all she felt was the chafing of rope around her wrists and feet, but then she saw, with her minds eyes, two more souls near her, one of them ebbing slowly. Somehow, she knew that this meant that this person was dying. Slowly, she cracked one eye slowly, and took in the whole horrific scene. The man she had been fighting with earlier was on the ground, his hair matted with a dark substance that Miantha suspected was blood. There was another man, an older man, right next to him. And then, as she cast her eyes around the rest of the camp, she noticed...a dragon. At first she thought, irrationally, that it was Balefire, but this dragon was large, and obviously older. Then she saw Sarama, unhurt, tied at the edge of the camp. She sighed with relief. They had not caught Balefire, and they hadn't hurt Sarama. She turned her attentions next to the two men tied with her. The man she had met first opened his eyes and opened his mouth at what he saw. Then Miantha saw what he was looking at - a Ra'zac. They must have been captured by them after they lost the fight, she surmised. But then who was the other man?

Above them, the Ra'zac laughed chillingly. "The drug is working, yessss? I think you will not be bothering us again." The man cursed and struggled with his bonds, but stopped when he noticed a second Ra'zac putting a muzzle over the dragon on the other side of camp. "She was most cooperative once we threatened to kill you," it hissed. Apparently, though Miantha, that dragon is a girl. Then a brilliant thought came to her mind - she would contact Balefire! _Balefire!_ She yelled in her mind. _HELP!!_

_What is it?_ He answered abruptly. _I've been waiting for hours. Where are you?_ _Don't come,_ She begged. _I've been captured by Ra'zac._ She sent a mental picture of the creatures. _They captured two other men as well. I think...I think that one of them is a Dragon Rider, like us. She paused. [I don't know what to do. Do you have any ideas?_ Meanwhile, the Ra'zac were arguing about her. "She is not necessssary," One hissed. "If she is Eragon's companion, we will be killed for killing her," The other replied. So - one of the men was named Eragon. Her mother had told her the story of the first dragon Rider, named Eragon. Perhaps, the man she had seen in her dream was named after this man. Meanwhile, the man who was perhaps named Eragon argued with the Ra'zac. Miantha chose to stay quiet as she waited for Balefire's reply.

_I do not know either._ Balefire finally said. _There is nothing I can think of. _But then Miantha's attention was diverted by the harsh cry of a Ra'zac with an arrow in his back. The second Ra'zac scuttled to its wounded companion. They made no noise as Eragon and the other man stood, and Miantha followed suit. She felt Eragon's curious eyes on her as she did so but did not answer them. She was focused on staying safe. More arrows hissed into the camp from behind a rock. There was a lull, then arrows came from the opposite direction. Caught by surprise, the Ra'zac reacted slowly. Their cloaks were pierced in several places, and a shattered arrow buried itself into one's arm.

With a wild cry, the smaller Ra'zac fled towards the road, kicking Eragon viciously in the side as he passed, completely ignoring Miantha. Its companion hesitated, then grabbed the dagger from the ground and raced after it. As he left the camp, he hurled the knife at Miantha. The second, older man looked at her for a second, then jumped to intercept the knife. She jumped in the opposite direction, knocking him backwards. "No," screamed the man Eragon belatedly, though he was already doubled over in pain. Miantha heard footsteps, and a thump. She flew around, noting Eragon lying on the ground, and saw yet another man, staring at all three of them.

Though the situation was far from humorous, Miantha began to laugh hysterically.


	11. Chapter 11

The laughter quickly turned to tears, streaming down her face. Miantha's shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, and the pangs in her left arm reminded her of her injury, but she was too stunned by the events of that day to care anymore.

After what seemed like an eternity, someone's hand rested on her shoulder. She roughly wiped away the last of the tears and looked up. It was the man who had saved the three of them. His dark brown hair framed an intense face, though his topaz eyes were gentle. "I can't do this without your help," He said. She nodded, looking back at the ground, confused. What help could he need from her? "What do you need help with?" Miantha asked.

"Approaching those two," He grunted, motioning to Eragon and the other. She looked at him quizzically.   
"What?"  
"The dragon wouldn't let me near them," He explained.  
"What makes you think that I can help, then?" She asked, exasperated. "What could I possibly do that you could not?"  
He seemed only slightly abashed as he said, "You are a woman, you know."  
"I have noticed that, over the years," Miantha retorted dryly. "Your point?"

"Well, women are generally better at social...things...than men." He said, obviously trying to make the statement into a compliment. This sort of thing would make Miantha chaff on any normal day, and the stress of the last few hours hadn't exactly helped her temper. "What!" She exploded. "That's like saying...I can't believe you just said that." Though she knew this was not the time for a quarrel, she couldn't help herself.

He seemed taken aback by her violent response. He backed away slowly, holding his hands up in surrender as she continued to yell at him. "I don't even know your name," Miantha fumed.  
"It's Murtagh," He broke in helpfully.  
"Oh." She replied, surprised by his interruption. She realized that her temper wasn't helping anything, and immediately her face burned hot. "I'm...I'm sorry," She began. "I didn't mean to blow up like that, it's just..." Miantha gestured aimlessly. Murtagh smiled. "It's alright. I understand. Now...do you think you could calm it down?"

"Of course," She said, turning to the dragon without another word, determined to show Murtagh what she was capable of.

In fact...a truly devious idea came to her mind, and Miantha smiled. This was going to be so fun! She had reasoned that, because she could contact Balefire through her thoughts, she could do the same with this dragon. The catch was that she would not let Murtagh on in the secret. She would just pretend that she had a way with animals. Though she knew that this was not a particularly good time for pranks, she just couldn't resist showing Murtagh up.

_Hello?_ She began tentatively, reaching for the blue dragons' mind.  
_How are you doing this?_ She demanded, not even bothering with a greeting. Miantha guessed, by the tenor of its thoughts, that the dragon was a girl.  
_How am I doing what?_ She asked.  
_Talking to me,_ the blue dragon said uneasily, stirring her wings slightly.  
_Oh - that. I just reached out to your mind is all, and then I sent you a thought. So, what is your name?_

During this exchange, Miantha had come to stand nose to nose with the dragon, who snorted at her.  
_I am Saphira,_ She stated proudly, choosing not to comment on Miantha's abrupt change of subject.  
_I am Miantha._ She said, bowing her head respectfully. _Murtagh, that man over there, wishes to help those two men lying beneath you. Would you be willing to move slightly so that he may tend their injuries? His intentions are good, I assure you._ Saphira's eyes were unfathomable as she surveyed Miantha.


	12. Chapter 12

Finally, the dragon snorted once more, and moved over slightly, clearing the path to the men. _Their names are Eragon and Brom, but I am still chained. Will you see to it that I am set free?_ She asked, frustrated, then the connection between them was severed.

Murtagh had already moved to the other men, looking over their wounds. Miantha went to join him, after unchaining Saphira. "How are they," She asked anxiously, scanning over the two as she spoke. The younger one was named Eragon, then, and the elder must be named Brom. Something about his name niggled in her memory, but she discarded that thought, and tried to contact Balefire and tell him that she was alright.

_Balefire?_ She sent.  
_Yes? I am here if you need me, by the side of your camp.  
No, I just wanted to tell you that I was safe - and to ask you not to come to me in front of these people. Though one of them is a Rider, I am not sure if Murtagh can be trusted. He has given me no reason not to, but caution is better.  
Good judgment,_ He approved, then the connection died.

Murtagh spoke suddenly, and Miantha was startled for a moment. "The younger will be fine, but the older man has a few broken bones, and those heal harder at his age." He shrugged. "Nothing too serious, though, they'll live." "Their names are Eragon and Brom, respectively," She informed him.

He looked at her oddly, then, as though through some inner convincement to a question he had not asked, he nodded slightly. "Will you help me by bringing the horses over, please?" He asked, courteous as ever. Miantha noted, as she went over to the other side of camp to get the horses, that Murtagh's horse was gray as well, though obviously war-trained. There were two more horses at the side of the camp that Miantha concluded must be Eragon and Brom's, so she collected them as well, and led all four horses to the spot where Brom and Eragon lay.

As Miantha helped load the two men onto the saddles of their horses, she wondered where all this would take her. Could she now travel with another Rider, learn his secrets? It seemed more likely that Brom, the older man, was the Rider. He seemed nearly old enough to have dropped straight out of the old tales.

After Murtagh was sure that neither Brom nor Eragon would fall out of the saddles once they began to ride, he counted his war stallion and motioned for Miantha to do the same. She did so, grabbing the reigns of Brom's horse as Murtagh reached for Eragon's. Together, Miantha and Murtagh led Brom and Eragon into the darkness, leaving the Ra'zac's camp far behind, Saphira flying high above them.


	13. Chapter 13

Miantha woke herself early, eager to go talk to and see Balefire before...before she decided what she should do. Things were supposed to be interesting around one Rider; so she figured that events would be all the more momentous around two Riders!

Quickly, she saddled up, getting Sarama ready for a short ride. Miantha figured that she could contact Balefire soon enough, and find out where he had bunked for the night, and maybe he had stayed in the clearing she had left him in before Dras Leona. The trick was getting out of the camp before anyone got up. Then a voice came from behind her. "What are you doing?" It was Murtagh.

For several frantic seconds, Miantha was at a loss for words, trying to think of something to say. Then inspiration hit her, along with a healthy does of irritation for the interruption. "What, can't a woman go far away from a camp full of men to relieve herself without being interrogated?" She replied indignantly.

Murtagh flushed a bright red and walked off to the center of camp, making a fire and pointedly looking away. Miantha grinned as soon as he couldn't see her any longer. So easy to shame a man, she thought with satisfaction. That was downright fun. And she galloped off to find Balefire, extending her senses to the surrounding areas.

She finally found Balefire, after extensive instructions on his part, in a small clearing about a mile away from the camp that Murtagh and she had made last night. Brom and Eragon, the two men that had been captured with Miantha, had been sleeping when she had left. _Hello,_ She sent, hugging Balefire as she thought. He had gotten much bigger in the three weeks that she had been with him - he was already up to her waist, and Miantha suspected that in another few months, he would be as big as the blue dragon named Saphira.

_Hello,_ He answered back, rubbing his head against her back, which was the only part of her that he could reach. _So, tell me all about what happened, now!_ He sounded like one of the gossiping girls at Miantha's old village, and she laughed. After a moment, Balefire, seeing the images in her head, laughed too, snorting out little sparks - one of which landed on her blonde hair, the pride of her childhood.

In only moments, her hair was on fire, and instinctively she screamed, dropping to the ground to try and smother out the fire that was spreading rapidly. After a minute, all of the fire was gone - as was Miantha's hair. 

This was going to be very difficult to explain to Murtagh.

_Balefire!_ She said, after catching her breath and attempting to calm her beating heart. His thought was sheepish when he did reply. _I am very sorry,_ He thought at her, _I did not know that that would happen. I apologize. _He backed away, slowly. Miantha looked at his expression, and could not help herself. She laughed. _Oh, don't worry Balefire, I've been meaning to cut it off for quite some time now, it was getting in the way._ She paused for a second.

_The hardest thing about this is going to be explaining to Murtagh what happened to my long hair. But I'll figure it out somehow,_ She thought, frowning. _I'm sure you will,_ Balefire said, glad he had been forgiven. After a few more minutes of conversation, Miantha hopped back onto Sarama, riding back to Murtagh - and the biggest lie of her life.


	14. Chapter 14

By the time that Miantha came back, the fire was roaring. Murtagh was poking around in it, looking dour. "What's wrong?" She asked. He looked startled for a moment, then looked up. "Nothing is...what happened to you?" Her scalp, which had been burned before she had managed to get the fire out, was now numb, and Miantha suspected that it was going to scar. She looked down. "Um...I burnt my hair off?" He just stared at her.

"And just how did you manage to do that?" Miantha had been thinking of ideas the entire ride back to camp - there was the 'freak lightning' excuse, and then...well, she hadn't gotten any farther than 'freak lightning'. Faking shock was probably her best option at this point. "Uh...I don't feel that well..." She slurred. "I think...I think I might..." And Miantha pretended to faint, being careful to not bang her head on a rock. After her eyes had closed, her other senses sharpened - she heard Murtagh try to yell at her to wake up, and then mutter something about "why do I always have to rescue her" before hefting her up with a grunt. Miantha had to suppress a snort of irritation at his assumption that she was a helpless female.

Being carried bride-style is the oddest feeling, Miantha thought. It's like flying on a dragon that just began to fly, like Balefire. This almost made her smile and giggle, and some analytical part of Miantha's mind realized that perhaps she was indeed in a little bit of shock. Her head was beginning to hurt a little more than it had, and as Murtagh put a cold washcloth to her face she could not help give a little whimper.

Murtagh was sympathetic, though. "I'm sorry, Miantha, but if I don't do this it will only get worse," He said gently, placing another damp cloth on the top of her head, being careful not to put any pressure on it. Miantha felt tears welling up behind her eyes again - this had definitely not been her lucky two days or so. Being attacked by Ra'zac, going hysterical, and now having her hair burned off...between those, she had been downright miserable.

The tears started to spill over onto her cheeks. "I...I'm sorry," Miantha said. "I don't mean to be a...a burden..." Murtagh didn't say anything, just wiped away her tears with the cloth. "You shouldn't talk now," He finally said, and she heard the crunch of his footsteps as he walked over to care for Eragon and Brom, or at least that's what he said he was going to do.

Finally, Miantha felt like she could get up without falling over again. Her head hurt like nothing ever before, and she could barely see for the pounding in her forehead, but at least she was standing, though shakily. Mostly by memory, she found her way over to Eragon, Brom and Murtagh. Eragon was just waking. From what she could see through her squinting eyes, he was shaking his head from side to side, and standing shakily.


	15. Chapter 15

Miantha's vision was finally beginning to clear, though her head still throbbed. She guessed that the initial shock of the burn must have kept her from feeling the pain right afterwards.

Eragon spoke then, his words surprisingly clear for having been out of it for a day; and his accent was similar to Miantha's. "What happened?" He asked. Murtagh explained as Eragon looked around the camp, orienting himself.

"I see," He said softly, after Murtagh had finished with the introduction of Miantha and himself. "It is nice to meet you," Eragon added, inclining his head to Miantha and Murtagh in turn. Manners, Miantha thought approvingly. "I am Eragon, and with me is Brom. Did you perhaps see..?"

"Your dragon, Saphira?" Miantha prompted, after it was clear that he did not intend to go on. "Yes, we did, and it sure did take a while to convince her that we meant no harm, let me tell you..." But Eragon was paying no attention to Miantha - he had noticed Brom, lying, bloody, on the ground. Miantha and Murtagh had not cleared his wound of blood, afraid of reopening it.

"How did this happen?" He muttered, then looked up suddenly at Miantha and Murtagh, considering. After a moment, he lifted his face to the sky, and Miantha could hear a small strain of his mental cry for Saphira. Shortly, Saphira landed in the small clearing, her wings creating a small wind. Eragon and Saphira held a small conversation that Miantha couldn't hear - Murtagh looked utterly confused - and finally, Eragon laid his hands on Brom's head.

"Waise Hiell," He said quietly, and as Miantha and Murtagh looked on, stunned, Brom's wound was knitted together and, finally, no longer existed. Miantha gaped, amazed; true magic! Eragon had slumped, as though exhausted. "This is all I can do; I do not yet know how to mend bones." Then Eragon walked over to his blue dragon, ignoring them, curled up, and slept.

After Miantha was sure that Eragon was asleep, she turned to Murtagh. "That was..." she began, than paused, not knowing what to say. "Magic?" He suggested, still looking down at Brom's healed skin. "Well, yes, that, but..." Miantha frowned. Now that the blood that had obscured Brom's face was gone, he looked like some one out of a story that her mother had told her - long, white hair and beard - and his name was familiar as well, Brom...Brom...

Finally, Miantha gave up wracking her brain for the source of the information, deciding that sleep was the best option at this point. "I...I'm going to sleep as well..." She yawned to Murtagh, before blearily locating her sleeping furs and dropping into them, asleep before she even hit the pillow.


	16. Chapter 16

When Miantha finally opened her eyes yet again, it was the next morning, and everyone else was already awake and eating the stew that someone had prepared. Miantha blushed at being so lazy and sleeping so late, then got up quickly and got dressed in the privacy of the trees before joining the three men at the fire.

It seemed that the men had been talking all that morning, for they were packing up their saddlebags before Miantha even had the time to put some of the wonderful stew in her mouth. Quickly, she swallowed the thankfully cool soup and opened her mouth to protest. "Wait for me!" She said, standing up and grabbing her bags and sleeping furs, hurriedly packing them and getting Sarama ready. "Miantha - " started Murtagh. "We cannot let you come with us," Brom explained rationally. "We, all three of us, are hunted men. The Ra'zac should be looking for us shortly - you should probably get going." Miantha felt her face fill with the heat of anger.

"So, what, you were just going to let me stay here and be killed by the Ra'zac? What kind of men are you?" Eragon answered this time. "We already told you; we are hunted men. You would be no more safe around us than you would be on your own." Miantha's full fury spiked up, and with the rush of adrenaline came sudden inspiration.

"But," She pouted, widening her eyes innocently. "I am in danger every moment I am not under someone's protection." She let a tear fall down her face, not bothering to censor it. It was a bit unfair, she admitted, but playing the 'helpless female' card was her best bet at this point. And anyway, it would certainly fit in with Murtagh's view of her.

"What with slavers," She went on, (though that was a bit of a low blow - she had seen the way that slavery affected Eragon) "And then there are me - I mean, **evil** men who would take advantage of me." She batted her eyes up at Eragon - Brom was too old for her and Murtagh probably wouldn't have fallen for it, but Eragon seemed to melt before her eyes. "I know you would never do that," She continued, pouring the flattery on thick and hoping it would work.

And it did. Eragon's eyes fell straight to Brom's, silently appealing for Miantha to come with them. Brom looked at Miantha a moment, then conceded, nodding his head slightly. Murtagh looked sour - what was his problem? Did he have an issue with women on this trip? Miantha was determined to show him up.

Gracefully, she slid onto Sarama, delicately arranging her body to her best advantage before turning her head. "You coming?" She asked, then rode off, praying they would follow and not just laugh at her and go in the other direction.


	17. Chapter 17

In the distance, she vaguely heard Brom mutter "And so, two became four," and then the other three men saddled up and followed after her.

Miantha let the three catch up to her and Sarama (though Murtagh and Brom could have anyway - their horses were very well bred) mainly so that she could join in the conversation, but they were silent, for some odd reason. Eragon was brooding, as was Murtagh, and Brom was looking intently at her saddle horn.

Wondering what he was looking at, Miantha looked down and tried to see what he was looking at, turning her hand around and trying to figure out what was wrong with it. It was only the hand that her gedwey ignasia was on, so there was a small scar, but other than that...

Miantha gasped. Her gedwey ignasia! It would mark her as a Rider, and then her secret would be out! She pushed her hands into the folds of her skirts and hoped with all her heart that Brom had not seen it - but he spurred his horse to come and talk to her. "Miantha," He began, "We need to talk. Now."

Just then, Eragon came riding up to the two of them, his face determined, his eyes alight with a mission. "We need to go to Gil'ead!" He proclaimed. "Er...I mean, Brom, I..." He had obviously made some mistake in addressing Brom so casually and demandingly, and tried to fix it.

"I feel the need to go to Gil'ead, Brom. You do remember...the woman I saw...she spoke last night...she said 'Gil'ead' quite clearly." His eyes begged Brom. Miantha felt a small surge of jealousy, then let it go. Eragon had not really captured her interest - it was just natural instinct, she supposed. When a man that handsome professed his love, it was a loss for women everywhere.

Brom looked fleetingly annoyed that his crucial conversation had been interrupted, and then replied to Eragon. "Why is this woman so important that you would risk everyone's life by going to Gil'ead?" Eragon turned red but did not look down. "Brom, I mean no disrespect, but this is very important to me." Brom looked at Eragon, assessing his ire, perhaps, and then nodded tersely. "If it is that important to you, Eragon, I suppose we must."

"I do not mean to be a trouble, Brom, but it really is..." Miantha had already ridden out of earshot - she was trying very hard not to care that they were ignoring her, probably because she was a woman. Men tended to have low opinions of women - she had learned this, of all lessons, in her village. Pondering this last sobering thought, she did not notice Murtagh riding next to her. She had forgotten about him, for the moment, and how Brom and Eragon were undoubtedly ignoring him as well. "Hello." He said.

"Er...hello." Miantha had always been rather awkward around men - what with growing up with only her mother, and having no standing among the villagers, she had not had much chance to practice.

Not replying, Murtagh just smiled at her, rather strained, and spurred forward. Now what was wrong with him?


	18. Chapter 18

Miantha just shook her head. Men were creatures that were totally alien to woman - one might even call them another species. Miantha had, and many times. At this thought, she heard Balefires voice in her mind, snorting at her. _Human men, perhaps. Dragons...not so much. In dragons, it is the women that are atypical._

Miantha grinned. She hadn't talked to Balefire in what seemed like ages, though had only been the morning before. She didn't like having to keep him from the others, but she felt it was necessary. She had only known them for about two days, and was not sure about whether or not they were trustworthy.

_Bale, what have you been up to? Are you keeping up_? Bale was her nickname for him - Balefire was a nice name, but very long. _I have been with you, mostly. It is difficult to maneuver in these thick woods - I have had to fly, but I have kept out of sight. _He answered her.

_Oh, good!_ So he was keeping out of trouble. But now Brom was starting to stare at her like she was insane...probably because she was smiling to herself and laughing and frowning as well.

With that, Brom slowed his horse and Miantha unwittingly caught up to him. They were well behind Eragon and Murtagh, who were talking in hushed tones. "Hello." Brom said shortly. "We have been introduced, I believe, before Eragon so rudely interrupted." He seemed very irritated. What was wrong with the men on this trip? She wondered for a second time. Brom held out his hand, presumably for her to shake.

As Miantha held out her right hand, Brom took it with more force than was necessary, and dexterously flipped it over, holding it like a vice. Her gedwey ignasia was now in plain sight, and by the look in Brom's eyes, he knew exactly what it meant.


	19. Chapter 19

Brom's face hardened as he looked at her hand, his knuckles turning white from holding her so tightly. Miantha had to clench her teeth so as not to cry out. As suddenly as he had grabbed her, he let go. "Explain," he said curtly, tightening his mouth as he examined her.

"Well," Miantha couldn't see a way out of this one. "A couple weeks ago...no, a month...I found an egg, in a glade..." And though her story was full of pauses where Miantha chose not to tell Brom about what she had been doing, it came out alright. At the end, he simply sat there on his horse. "I would ask you to keep this a secret," she added "I do not yet know if I trust the others, nor if I even trust you."

He nodded tersely, and opened his mouth to speak, but Murtagh and Eragon came galloping from around the corner. She and Brom had stopped their horses when he had discovered her gedwey ignasia, and they had not begun to walk again. 

"We just wanted to make sure you weren't too far behind." Eragon said, looking at Brom oddly. "We were simply chatting," said Brom dismissively, and galloped ahead, Eragon staring after.

Miantha fell into step with Murtagh and Eragon, Sarama trotting contentedly beneath her. There was an awkward silence for a moment. "So, Miantha..." started Eragon, obviously fumbling for words. Apparently, these two weren't the most experienced men. Well, that was good, because Miantha didn't know anything about romance herself, her dad being dead, and herself being an outcast.

"What is your favorite color," he asked desperately. "I like the color green." Miantha answered immediately, thinking of Balefire's beautiful scales. "And what are yours?" "Blue," said Eragon, at the same time that Murtagh replied "I don't know.". Miantha smiled as Eragon and Murtagh started to apologize.

Men are so amusing, she thought. How had she borne missing this all of her childhood?


	20. Chapter 20

Miantha had been enjoying the scenery, not paying the least bit of attention to Murtagh and Eragon, who had resumed their hushed conversation. As winter was fast approaching, the leaves were dropping off of all of the trees, leaving them bare. The air was cold, and there were even some red bushes at the side of the trail.

After a moment, one of her mothers' songs started playing in her head, her mother's soft alto voice ringing through the lyrics. The soft, lilting melody reminded her of butterflies and daisies, but the actual song was quite sad.

The urge to hum it was irresistible, and Miantha started to sing the song under her breath.

"'Tis the last rose of summer,  
Left blooming all alone.  
All her lovely companions  
Are faded and gone.

No flower of her kindred  
No rose..."

Then she realized that Murtagh and Eragon had stopped their conversation. Embarrassed, Miantha quit singing. Eragon looked at her oddly. "I've...heard that song before, somewhere..." he said, sounding confused.

A whisper came from her left. "I have as well. But I...my mother sang that to me." murmured Murtagh, looking as though he were a thousand miles away, in the far past. Eragon and Miantha looked around uncomfortably for a moment, then rode on in silence.

Later that evening, at the camp fire, Brom pulled her aside yet again. "I have thought over what you requested...and I agree that it is reasonable to keep your Rider-ship to yourself. Though I will have to inform Saphira, so that she does not unintentionally find your dragon and tell Eragon." Brom said.

Miantha bowed her head in respect, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, went back to the campfire. Eragon looked uncomfortable, and Murtagh looked slightly bored. "Brom, as Gil'ead is only days away from here, oughtn't we to make a plan - "

But Brom interrupted Eragon. "We haven't sparred since the attack from the Ra'zac - you need to practice first." With a sigh, Eragon went to his horse's satchel and pulled out a large blood-red sword. Murtagh gave a little gasp that was quickly smothered, but by Brom's face, he had noticed it, as well as Miantha.

Brom got out his own sword, and they said a few words over them. Miantha knew that it was magic, and apparently, so did Murtagh for he did not look even slightly intrigued. He was still staring at the red sword. Then Brom and Eragon began to spar, and it was like a beautiful, dangerous dance. Miantha couldn't help but stare - they were wonderful sword fighters, that much was obvious.

When they were done, Murtagh asked Eragon if he would like to spar, but Eragon declined. Knowing that this would demolish her reputation as a helpless female, Miantha replied "I will spar with you." Murtagh stared at her. "You can't be serious."


	21. Chapter 21

"Well, I am." Miantha stated matter-of-factly, fetching her daggers from the saddle bag. "Are you?" He just kept on staring. Miantha felt her irritation grow. "What, just because I'm a woman means I can't fight? I do daggers. Do you know how to spar with daggers?" Finally, Murtagh blinked, and went over to his own saddle bag, retrieving a long, wicked blade at least a hand and a half long. "Only a short sword, I'm afraid." He said slowly.

Miantha got in her ready position, knife over heart, and Murtagh hurried to do the same. "Wait!" Barked Brom, stepping between them. "I need to ready those weapons for you. Did you see what Eragon and I did? We guarded our blades, so that we wouldn't hurt each other too fatally. Give me those," He grabbed their daggers, and said a few words over them. Miantha snatched hers back. "You didn't hurt them, did you?" She snapped, running her fingers over the now slippery surface of her knives. If her only remembrance of her father was damaged she didn't know what she would do.

"No, I will fix them later." Brom said, and sat back, apparently anticipating an interesting match. Miantha slipped back into her fighting stance, Murtagh doing the same.

"I'm sorry if I don't fight that well," Miantha started. "You see, I haven't -" Murtagh struck before she even had a chance to finish her statement. So that's how it's going to be, she thought, and attacked him with her best arsenal of moves, even forcing him back a couple of steps.

But there was no denying it; he had much greater upper body strength, and could keep going for much longer. Miantha had to win with her speed, and finish this quickly; she could feel herself tiring even as she thought, trying to block Murtagh's blows.

Swiftly, Miantha ducked under Murtagh's strike, deflecting his hand-and-a-half, and held her right hand dagger to his throat. He looked at her in surprise, and then lowered his sword hand. "That was amazing." It was Eragon speaking.

Miantha was caught up in Murtagh's eyes for a moment, and then looked towards Eragon, almost glad for the interruption. "Thank you," She replied. Murtagh handed his sword to Brom, and after his was done, Miantha turned over hers to Brom. "Your spar was pretty good as well," she added.

Brom was looking at her daggers oddly, at the runes on the hilts. "What?" "Nothing, nothing; you are a very interesting girl, Miantha. What with the sign, and the..." he muttered, trailing off. Miantha just looked at him oddly for a moment, then cautiously took her daggers back, stowing them away in her saddle bag again, before settling into her sleeping furs. "'Night, all," She said.

The next morning, Miantha rolled out of bed, and out of habit checked to make sure that everyone was still there. After being nearly abandoned once, she wasn't about to risk that again. But everyone was there, also just getting up. She got dressed fast, and then all four of them had breakfast.

Eragon cleared his throat. "Brom, I still think we need to plan a stratagem for Gilead. It will take a miracle to infiltrate their dungeon." Brom tapped his chin. "A miracle - or a dragon."


	22. Chapter 22

Eragon nodded at that. Then they continued to make plans, restructuring when needed. Finally, after much argument on Brom's and Miantha's part, it was determined that Murtagh and Eragon would go to the tower inconspicuously, leaving Brom and Miantha back at the camp. Brom argued that he could be more help than just being a babysitter, and then Miantha got started about how she didn't need to be babysat - she could help them too!

How infuriating, she fumed. She just proved to them her skill with daggers, and yet they STILL blatantly disregard her as a weak woman.

Murtagh and Eragon still stated that, with only two people in jeopardy, there was less chance of an...accident.

Eragon and Murtagh stayed adamant. Secretly, Miantha figured that if things went too badly with those two, her and Brom could always hop onto Bale and bring Saphira along, to help.

That night, Brom got Eragon over by the fire. "Tonight, we not only need to practice sword fighting, but magic as well. This may not be interesting to you, Murtagh and Miantha, but you may stay if you wish." As he said that, his eyes flickered towards Miantha, and she understood that she was supposed to stay, and learn. But Murtagh quickly responded with, "No, no, it's fine Brom, Miantha and I will go for a walk." He started walking out of the campsite.

Miantha followed after, sending an I'm-so-sorry look to Brom before running to Murtagh. "So..." She started, but couldn't find any words to go after. They walked in silence for a while, awkwardly staring around at the beautiful scenery.

The sun was just barely setting on a clear night, making the clouds into red streaks across the sky. Miantha sat gracefully down onto a log, content just to sit and watch as the sun disappeared below the horizon. From where she lived, the sun was gone early, as the spine was on her west. But out here, the sunset stretched out for what seemed like forever.

"The sunset is so beautiful," She breathed. She heard Murtagh take a deep breath beside her, before replying, "As are you, Miantha."


	23. Chapter 23

Miantha went very still. For a moment, silence reigned over the small clearing. Even the birds had stopped their evening song, as though in anticipation of her reaction. She was painfully aware of Murtagh sitting beside her, waiting. _Unfair!_ She cried out with her mind.

_Say something,_ snapped Balefire, apparently having heard it. _What am I supposed to say?_ Asked Miantha. _How am I supposed to know?_ Then the connection was severed from Balefire's side. _Gee, thanks,_ She added before concentrating again on the problem before her.

All that came out was a rather strangled "O-oh...". Then, "Thank you, M-murtagh, I-I mean..." Life had just gotten that much more complicated. What luck.

After another awkward minute of silence, they both stood to leave. They walked back to camp in an embarrassed silence. Miantha was feeling very sorry for Murtagh, of course, but how was she supposed to deal with this, anyway? When they were finally back in camp, Miantha discovered that the magic lesson was still going on.

Brom took in Miantha's and Murtagh's flushed faces and raised an eyebrow, but fortunately choose not to comment. "Eragon," He said loudly enough for them to hear, "Please make this stone rise and go in circles around me. Do you remember the words?" Eragon nodded yes. "Stenr reisa," Eragon commanded, and one of the stones rose above his head immediately, then circled above them all. Brom frowned, apparently unimpressed by his show of magical prowess.

"I said, around ME, not around the camp. Practice your control. Again." Brom said with the air of one having repeated the same thing over and over again. But he also glanced over at Miantha. He didn't need to worry, however - Miantha had already memorized the phrase and had picked up a stone with which to practice.

Shortly after this, all four turned in. The next morning, after breakfast, Miantha practiced her one phrase over and over again, like a mantra, trying to access the place from the the Trance had come.

"Stenr reisa...stenr reisa...STENR REISA!!!" She finally yelled in frustration, then looked around, embarrassed. At least no one had heard her - Brom and Eragon were talking about the Ra'zac and what they had done wrong, and Murtagh had stonily avoided her since last night. Remembering that awkward conversation, Miantha winced again, then went back to her magical exercise.

"Stenr reisa...stenr reisa..." Finally, she saw the pebble wobble, and then rise half heartedly up a little ways before dropping. Encouraged by her progress, no matter how little, she went on, trying as hard as she could. Finally, what seemed like hours later, she managed to get the pebble to rise up to eye level. Satisfied, she let it drop. It was hard work, but worth it.

Ahead of her, Brom and Eragon had stopped. "Gil'ead will be in range tomorrow," Eragon explained tersely, looking over at the spires that were just visible over the trees. "Oh," replied Miantha. Just like that, her stomach twisted as she realized something - though she wasn't yet sure whether she had feelings for Murtagh or not...he might not come back from this mission. She might never see him again.


	24. Chapter 24

By that night, Miantha was getting very tired of the phrase 'Stenr Reisa'. Very tired indeed. How many times, she wondered, can you say something and still have it mean anything? _Not very long, apparently,_ snorted Balefire. _Go talk about something else - even I'm getting tired of that. And tomorrow you need to practice it even more._ Miantha sighed. He was right. _Thank you,_ she said.

Miantha walked over to where Brom was beginning Eragon's magic lesson. "Eragon, tonight we will be working on contr-" Then Miantha saw as he noticed her and abruptly changed his sentence. "I mean vocabulary," he said gravely.

"Now, Eragon, what is the name for stone?" Eragon blinked. "Stenr." "And the word for rise?" "Reisa." Brom smiled grimly as he asked, "And the word for fire?" Eragon smiled wryly as well. "Brisingr." Miantha didn't get the joke, but shrugged and kept on concentrating as Brom and Eragon covered words that went from grass (Shuldar) to sky (Pialin).

After what seemed like hours of rote memorization later, it was time for sleep, and preparation for the next day. Miantha felt her muscles tense as she thought about it, laying all alone in her small clearing.

She heard a rustling in the bushes to the right of her, and immediately she was out of her furs and on her feet, daggers in her hand, poised to strike. She couldn't discern what it was, but then a human form stumbled through. She lowered her daggers for a moment - was it Murtagh, come to talk to her? But he was too big - before she had a chance to think further (and more importantly, before he had a chance to hit first) Miantha jumped at him silently.

The man sighed and deflected her blow easily, knocking her to the ground, where she tried to get up again quickly but he put his foot upon her chest, though lightly. She struggled, and thought about yelling, but then the man hissed, "Miantha, you fool girl, what are you doing?" It was Brom.

Oops.


	25. Chapter 25

He looked very annoyed, from what Miantha could see of his face. "Well..." She started, "You see, I thought you were an Urgal or something, maybe..." It was a lame excuse and she knew it. Brom gave an exasperated sigh and took his foot off her chest. "Urgals are smaller than men, Miantha," He explained.

"Now, we need to discuss your magical education. While I'm trying to teach you as much as I can without tipping off Eragon and Murtagh, it would be so much easier if you would allow me to simply tell them, I'm sure that they're - " But Miantha didn't care what they were. "NO!" She interrupted loudly, making several of the nearby birds flutter up out of the trees.

"I mean...no." She amended. "I really, really do not wish for others to hear that I am a Rider...I just...I don't know WHY, but..." She struggled to say what she meant, but she knew she was right. After letting her stutter on for a few more sentences, Brom simply nodded and moved on.

"Be that as it may, I still have reserves about tomorrow," He said. "Undoubtedly you need to stay here - no offence, but you aren't yet ready for battle." Miantha nodded - she knew he was right. "So the question then is how I will keep track of Eragon and Murtagh while I am watching you so that you don't get in trouble with any of the many Urgals in the area, correct?"

Miantha nodded, confused. He sounded more like he was trying to teach something, not ranting against Murtagh's and Eragon's poor choice of whom to send on the mission.

"Now, how you would do that is like this," He began, and explained the phrase 'draumr kopa'. She nodded as he told her how you could only see things you had seen before, and as he had been inside the dungeon in Gil'ead, he would be able to see the background, Eragon, Murtagh, and Saphira quite well, and he would be able to determine whether or not they were injured.

"If they are injured," He continued on, "We will have to reveal your secret - there will be no choice. That will be the fastest way to get there. Although I do hope that it won't come to that." He finished up the lesson, and after assigning her a few phrases to memorize, he left her to sleep.

In the morning, Miantha woke early than usual, nervous butterflies flitting around in her stomach. She got up uneasily, dark portents filling her thoughts, and started to fuel the dying fire.


	26. Chapter 26

After only a few minutes, Eragon and Murtagh were up as well. Eragon looked slightly sick, but also eager. Murtagh was stony faced, pushing around the stew left over from the night before. Brom awoke about ten minutes later, looking grim as well.

Nobody really talked all that much while Brom was giving some last minute fighting tips to Murtagh and Eragon. _Balefire?_ Miantha asked tentatively. _Are you there?_

_I am always here, _He said affectionately.

_Thank you. But I just wanted to warn you that if Murtagh and Eragon get injured, you will have to fly Brom and I to Gil'ead. Do you think you can do that yet?_ His wings had been _growing stronger, but how strong, Miantha did not know. Balefire took a minute to think. I think I will be able to, if only for a little while.  
_  
_Good,_ answered Miantha, _Though hopefully it won't come to that._ Miantha hummed a song under her breath as she went about her work, tidying up the saddle bags that would be fastened to Saphira when they flew into Gil'ead. Miantha found that when she sung, most of her troubles flew out as she concentrated on the phrases, the breathing techniques, the sound of it all.

For the second time, the clearing went silent when she sung. Brom was staring at her, Murtagh was looking struck, and Eragon was looking around, confused at why everyone had suddenly stopped what they were doing. Miantha felt the same way.

"What is it?" She asked, stopping singing immediately. Brom pursed his lips a moment, then said, "Miantha, come here. Murtagh..." He paused for a second, gauging Miantha's face, and then continued, "You come too. Eragon, you should continue with your practice." He took them aside to a clear. Miantha sent a questioning glance to Murtagh, but he still looked star-struck.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Brom hissed, "Where did you learn that song?" Murtagh had regained some of his composure, and nodded as well. "Well...my mother used to sing that to me, when I was a child." Miantha explained. "Was your mother...an elf?" Brom asked, his voice lowering. "No. But my father was, or so says my mother. He disappeared when I was a small girl." Brom paused for a moment then nodded. "Well, then, that makes sense, though why is still a mystery..." He mused, then walked off still muttering to himself. Murtagh looked at her once more, as though she had transformed into something totally different than before, and joined Brom in walking away from her.

Several hours of hard work later, Miantha keeping silent the whole time, the plan was ready, and Murtagh and Eragon flew off towards Gil'ead.


	27. Chapter 27

Miantha sighed as she watched them as they flew, until they were out of sight. She put her hand up to run it through her hair, a childhood habit that she had foregone until now, and then realized a moment too late that there was no hair there to push back, only a ropy scar that covered her head. Apparently, in all the stress of the morn, she had forgotten to put her headdress on. She headed towards her pack (and her headdress) but Brom intercepted her.

"Shall we try to execute the magic that I taught you about last night?" He asked intensely, obviously under strain. "Yes," She answered immediately, not wanted to push him off the edge but still regretting not being able to cover her unsightly head.

"Now," Brom commanded, "Try your hand at 'Draumr Kopa'. If you don't get it, which I think will be the case, then I will show you how, and then we shall try again." Miantha nodded, taking the bowl of water that Brom had extended to her. She looked deep into the depths of the water, imagining it showing the images of Saphira, Murtagh, and Eragon flying through the sky, floating near the clouds..."Draumr Kopa," She whispered.

The water darkened for a moment and then turned back to its natural form. Brom raised an eyebrow. "That was impressive, for one who has never done this before. Try again, but this time try harder to access your store of magic, instead of focusing on the outside world around you." Miantha nodded again, still staring at the clear, cool water.

She couldn't concentrate this time, however - she was remembering what Brom had asked her late yesterday, about her mother being an elf. If she was half elf, than her magic must be more powerful than most humans. Since the music she knew was elvish...maybe that was her way of tapping into her magic.

Nearly instantly, one of her mother's, or rather her father's, melodies started to stream through her head, the many voices involved layering one over the other. The language was strange and beautiful, it flowed with a clarity unknown to her own language. It was a river song - fitting for a water magic. She started to hum the highest melody, the one most fitting for her voice. 

As she sang the river song, the outside world dropped away and she saw only the clear purity of the water and of herself, shining amongst the stars in the heavens. "Draumr Kopa," She wove into the words of the song, singing it to the timeless melody. "Draumr Kopa," She whispered once more, and when she opened her eyes, the water had changed.

She could see Eragon's face, white with anticipation and fear, Murtagh's stony expression from the morning, and Saphira's fierce grin, filled with eagerness. After drinking all this in, as well as the black background, she looked up at Brom, who was still staring at the water, looking dumbstruck. "Why is the water black?" She asked. Brom looked up slowly. "That is because you have not ever seen the land surrounding Gil'ead, and since you do not know what it looks like you cannot project it on the water." He said slowly. "Now...explain. What did you do!"

Miantha flushed. "Well, see, I thought that music would be a good way...I mean, I'm sorry that I didn't...well..." She was floundering for words. Thankfully, Brom interrupted. "I'm not mad - I'm just wondering what you did." "Well, I weaved the spell in with the music - you said that my music was all elven, and if that is so, it makes sense that their songs would carry more power because of the inherent elven power, and so since I'm always singing I thought that that might be the way, you know, I could tap into my magic..." She trailed off, not sure how well she was explaining this.

Brom nodded gravely. "I had never thought of...of this happening before. It is simply unheard of. However, I now need to..." He trailed off as he concentrated on the water as well. "Draumr Kopa," He said with power, and suddenly the background was filled in, and Miantha could see the prison in the distance - it was the tallest building. "At least it'll be easy to find if we need to go there," She joked lamely. Brom didn't notice - he was staring off into the distance, muttering to himself yet again, as he seemed to be doing rather a lot lately.

However, even he got sucked into the action when Eragon and Murtagh got to the point where they had to fight to get the elf. From what Miantha could see, she was nearly unconscious, but very beautiful and obviously very strong, although probably weak, at this point. Then she saw, as though in slow motion, as an arrow flew at Eragon, from the bow of a red-haired, pale skin man-thing, and it hit him. Murtagh couldn't see - he was still trying to fight off the many soldiers that were filtering into the now-cramped room.

Brom stood quickly. "Call your dragon," He commanded.


	28. Chapter 28

Miantha nodded. It was time. _Balefire!_ She screamed in her mind, _Come, quickly!_ A split second later, Balefire came crashing through the undergrowth, growling and tossing his head, raring to go.

Less than a minute later, they were up in the air, Balefire carrying Miantha and Brom tentatively, trying to stay up. Brom was giving tense commands to fly right, or left, and no one was speaking. Even if Miantha had wanted to, which she didn't, they were going much too fast to talk anyway. Besides, Balefire had enough to deal with. He was struggling with the weight of two people.

Approximately ten minutes later, they had arrived in Gil'ead, and it was clear to see where the battle was waging - for it was on fire. "Fool," Muttered Brom, furious. "And just how am I supposed to see through that," He asked rhetorically. By the time Brom had finished his sentence, Balefire was hovering above the flaming prison. Through the smoke, Miantha could dimly make out a glimpse of Saphira's blue scales, but not much else was visible. Brom was right after all - nothing could be seen.

Miantha could feel Brom tensing himself in front of her, readying for...for...jumping! "Brom don't you'll kill yourself!" She yelled. "I'm not about to jump, you fool girl, if that was what you were thinking, I'm about to do magic," He hissed, obviously not in a very good mood at this point. A few moments later, a strong wind breezed in from the north, bitter and cold, wiping away the smoke.

Miantha gasped at the wreckage she saw before her. Blood was spattered over everything, it seemed. The elf (Miantha could not help noticing how beautiful she was, with her long, black hair that Miantha so envied her) was nearly unconscious, but still somehow managing to find the strength to fight.

Eragon was having a face-off with a red-haired man in a distant corner. Saphira and Murtagh had just spotted them floating above the prison. "Oi!" Murtagh called. "Come and convince Eragon that we can GO, now that we've got the bloody elf!" Brom wasn't moving though - obviously the magic had exhausted him. [Bale, I need you to drop Brom and I down on the ground so I can talk some sense into Eragon and he can lift Arya - she looks heavy. She commanded, and he did so immediately.

Just as Balefire lighted upon the ground, an errant soldier that Murtagh hadn't managed to decapitate shot an arrow straight at them. Miantha shouted at Brom and Balefire, who roared, but Brom was still weary, didn't move fast enough, and soon the world stopped. Miantha saw the arrow sticking out of Brom's neck, but it didn't quite click. In the true fashion of the recently mourning, she fell into denial, and decided to ignore him. "Eragon!" She shouted instead. "Get yourself over here we need to leave now!"

While she was yelling, she advanced onto the elf, who by now was slumped in a corner, unable to move. Hefting the elf up with a grunt, Miantha flung the gorgeous black-hair and its accompanying body onto Saphira, while Eragon was staring at the spot where the red-haired man had been. "Hurry up!" She shouted. Murtagh had already mounted Saphira and was getting impatient; finally Miantha decided that if he wanted to be left behind, so be it, but she, Brom, Murtagh, Saphira, and that elf were going.


	29. Chapter 29

Luckily for him, Eragon came to his senses within seconds and quickly made his way to Saphira, and nearly instantly the two dragons and their riders (Riders or not) were airborne.

After the adrenaline rush calmed down, and Miantha could think in sentences instead of the word 'escape escape escape' marquee-ing across her head, she realized that Brom wasn't talking. And then she remembered that he had an arrow through his neck. "Earth almighty BROM!" She yelled, looking around, but it was too late - he was soaking in red, bright red, and his eyes were glazed over like a dead deer's. It all went black for a moment, then her vision came back with full force, showing her details she did not formerly see (and that I will not repeat).

Just as good vision was restored, it was quickly stolen away by tears. Balefire did not comment, simply sent comforting images and feelings to her. Miantha glanced over to the others, riding on Saphira. Eragon was stroking the long, black hair of the elf that Miantha so desperately wished she had, and Murtagh looked as though he was a thousand miles away, hidden beneath a stone exterior.

"Eh..." She tried to yell over to them, but her throat had closed up and nothing was coming out except for a very ugly sounding groan. Miantha cleared her throat and tried again to speak, the words not sounding like her but coming out nonetheless.

"Murtagh," She croaked. He didn't reply, just kept looking stonily ahead. Eragon wasn't paying any attention either, the elf was unconscious, and Saphira was concentrating solely on keeping the heavy load on her back afloat.

"Murtagh," She croaked again, a little louder this time, and he popped into the present time again with a slight snap of his head and a quick blink. "Yes?" He asked, tired and apathetic, obviously not wanting to hear the answer. "Murtagh, Brom is...Brom...he's..." Miantha broke out in tears and Murtagh began to pay a little more attention. "Brom is what?" When she didn't answer, he exploded with pent-up fury, "CURSE YOU WOMAN BROM IS WHAT!"

"He's dead," Miantha sobbed, feeling more and more of Brom's lifeblood staining her only remaining traveling cloak. She would wear his death until she could purchase a new one.

Murtagh was already distracted. "Oi, Eragon!" He shouted in front of him. "Mm-hm," Murmured Eragon, still entranced with the elf's beauty. "Brom is dead, you idiot, stop mooning over that unconscious elf! Why do you look at one you have never known and mourn not the death of one you love! FOOL!" Eragon came to life then, looking wildly around to Balefire, where Brom was lying against a crying Miantha.


	30. Chapter 30

Back at camp, Eragon asked if Miantha and Murtagh would leave him, Brom, and Saphira alone. Him having known Brom the best, Miantha willingly agreed, and Murtagh just followed her stonily. He went to bed as soon as they unrolled the sleeping bags, and Miantha was left alone to tend to the unconscious elf. Hours later, Saphira and Eragon came back, both looking older, and immediately they went to sleep. Figuring the elf could only get better overnight, Miantha joined them in slumber.

Early the next morning, Eragon, Saphira, and Murtagh were all up, Murtagh making breakfast and Eragon muttering words over the elf, with Saphira at his side. Miantha rolled out of her furs, tidying them up neatly and packing them into her saddle-bag before joining Eragon next to the elf.

He looked exhausted, even though it was only morning. "Do you need help?" She whispered. Eragon looked at her for a moment. "You can't help with this, you don't have..." His voice died as he remembered the previous days' events, and the unmasking of another Rider in their midst. "How well can you control it? Have you been practicing?" He shot rapid-fire questions at her. Miantha nodded, rubbing her fingers together for warmth in the cold air.

"Look, I just need energy - I know how to focus it well, but I have none left. Do you know how to do that?" Eragon asked intensely, looking her square in the eyes. "I...I'm not sure." Miantha admitted, looking down at the crushed leaves lying defeated on the ground, the smell of them filling her nose. Eragon made a frustrated grunt, running his hand through his hair. "Look," He said gruffly, "You're just going to have to try. Now, hold my hand..." He grabbed it for her. "...And focus. Focus on sending your energy into me, a little stream of magic, just a little bit..."

Miantha tuned him out, thinking of how best to do this. A little song started up in her head, a fragile melody weaving it's way through her mind. Visualizing her body, she sent the small line of music down her neck, feeling it tingle with suppressed energy.

_It's working!_ She thought out loud. The tingle of music was fast growing into an electric pulse moving through her arm to Eragon. Leaning closer to him, in order to send more energy, Miantha focused on that melody becoming harmony, becoming more than just two singers, becoming a whole band of travelers, singing all in tune, with tinkling flutes and soft drums in the distance. She couldn't help the smile that crept up her face.

Even as she was happy, she could feel the flow of energy leaving her too fast, so fast she couldn't catch it and keep some for herself. She yanked her body away from Eragon, with every ounce of strength left in her. She felt drained, so different from her previous unbridled joy.

He was done healing the elf - she had been completely healed, and her eyes were still shut. After examining her a moment, Eragon turned to Miantha. "Thank you," He said brusquely, before turning back to the elf, obviously wanting to be alone with her, unconscious though she was. "Fool," Miantha muttered as she walked towards the fire and Murtagh to warm up.


End file.
